


Safe

by starespressos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Asexuality, Coming to terms with the asexual spectrum, Dean's a little lost, Demisexuality, First Kiss, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, Soft Dorks, Some non-explicit sex in the end, Somewhat nonthreatening heavenly missions, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/pseuds/starespressos
Summary: When Benny offers to take Dean for a night out, he knows he has to accept. Between blaming himself for being broken and shielding possible partners from inevitable disappointment, he hasn't had time to be intimate with anyone in a long time.It turns out hooking up isn't a thing he's good at, either. Instead, an angel takes him out for burgers.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 83
Collections: Asexual Supernatural Mini Bang 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I rely heavily on my own ace experiences on this fic. It's in no way a thorough exploration of what it means to be asexual.
> 
> There's no good or bad way to be ace, there's just a spectrum. In that spectrum, there's sex and no sex, there's everything in between, there's so much love that's either romantic or platonic or just directed at some really good food, or there's no love at all. 
> 
> But I guess you know this. If you don't, get googling. Please don't use fanfiction as the only source of information on anything. We're just here to enjoy things!
> 
> Art by the lovely [Shannon_Kind](https://shannon-kind.tumblr.com/). We've worked together before in kind of a different manner, but I'm always happy to have her around! She's a genuinely good person and the artwork is JOY. 
> 
> Beta by [Gray](https://deanieweaniewrites.tumblr.com). It's always a pleasure and can't wait for our future projects together my buddy my pal!!!
> 
> For those interested: [this is what Dean's soul sounds like.](https://open.spotify.com/track/7nkzPU4yoikgLfLoqsxPYy?si=vC1Q_jxsSFOtixVcWyPAqQ)
> 
> Happy reading!

Dean closes the trunk lid and leans against the car with his palms.

He’s thinking about it.

Of course he’s thinking about it, damn it, it could be an answer to one of the most prominent questions in his life. He could come out on the other side and know that he’s _normal_ instead of – well, this.

He thinks back to the times he’d wanted to have a good time and couldn’t, and that settles it. Pushing himself upright, he decides to call Benny immediately.

They meet in a downtown bar known for its sleek Scandinavian design and overpriced original cocktails.

“It’s swarming with angels tonight,” Benny says, looking around, “you can just cherry-pick.”

They sit down on a booth lined with royal blue velvet. Benny orders them beers and for a while, they remain silent. Looking around, Dean sees faint halos here and there, reminding him of the presence of the otherworldly. It makes him shiver.

People and angels have coexisted in peace for decades, but usually, they’re not this easy to locate. Angels mostly prefer to stick with their brethren and closer to nature than what New York has to offer. Dean has met a couple while driving across the country to meet his brother in California, and his experiences were pleasant.

Most angels that stay in the city do so because they want to get as close to the human experience as possible. That, rather obviously, means hedonism. Many are looking for one-night-stands in bars just like this… and that’s why Dean and Benny are here now, too.

It doesn’t take long for a couple of women, obviously both angels, to head their way. While Benny is instantly welcoming them to the booth and waving at the bartender to bring them drinks as well, Dean feels even more thrown by the attractive company than usual. He would’ve liked to chat with Benny about the details of spending a night with an angel before being thrown into the situation.

The truth is, he knows nothing. Humans he can understand, and humans are the ones that have led both him and his partner to disappointment time and time again. Angels are a completely different matter – because of a special skill they possess. 

“You seem to be lost,” one of the women says, snapping Dean back to reality, “I’m heading back to the bar. Want something?”

“Uh,” he manages and takes a glance at his beer, “surprise me.”

She winks and leaves the table. Dean watches her go and briefly it feels like a regular night out. They used to go a lot when they were younger and Dean was still optimistic, before everything normal was too hard for him, before his world shrunk into nothing but late hours at the garage.

Benny nudges him gently with his elbow. “You alright there, man?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says and smiles at the woman, who returns with a beer and a tray of shots. Benny scrutinizes him but decides to stay quiet, which probably is for the best right now.

Even though the alcohol is good, it takes too long to inebriate him and while waiting, Dean is painfully aware of his surroundings. People come alone and leave with enthusiastic angels; Benny talks to both of the girls with ease and probably will end up taking both of them home; the only people not looking to get laid are either out as a couple or just looking to get drunk, high, or both. Dean excuses himself to the bathroom and notices his feet are wobbling under him. Instead of giving him a happy buzz, it makes his stomach lurch with nausea. He’s too old for this and he should’ve stayed home after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror. Despite the warm bathroom lights, he looks almost sickly pale. If he spent time with an angel now, what would they see in him? What are his deepest desires?

Because that’s what angels can see, that’s the special skill they possess – seeing through people’s façade and into their soul. They can dig out the thing you want the most. This, of course, makes them incomparable as a sex partner, and that’s rather obviously the reason Dean and Benny are here tonight. Benny already has some experience in sleeping with an angel, and apparently it’s even better than he could imagine – in addition to knowing which buttons to press, angels enjoy giving pleasure so immensely it really is quite earth-shattering. 

And earth-shattering is just what Dean needs… Because he can’t remember when he’s last _enjoyed_ sex.

That’s saying a lot, provided that he’s had plenty of sex in the last ten years, but it’s not far from the truth. When he was a teenager, things were easier – he was experimenting with his sexuality without a care in the world and was content with just having a good time. It was when he grew older that the problems started.

He can still recall the first night he thought that it’s not worth all the hassle to have sex. It was a guy named Nick, and even though they hit it off at the bar, between the sheets it was just a lot of bodily fluids and stuttering breaths and instead of feeling nice, it felt _gross_. It felt like he couldn’t breathe and all he wanted to do was to get away and shower for an hour. What was even more gross, he didn’t tell Nick how he felt, and even though they were just a one-night-stand, it wasn’t fair towards him. Since then, he’s tried everything – communicating his desires, focusing entirely on the other party or parties, strictly leaving all his own pleasure in his own hands… And despite the fact that he does enjoy the rare shower-treat by himself, that too is starting to be more of a nuisance than a relief.

Needless to say, he’s desperate. That’s why he’s willing to see the last option through and have sex with someone who knows perfectly what he wants. Now if he just could get his mindset right – that it’s nice to meet people and chat with them, and that he’s a handsome person who could land a date.

“Not sure that’s true anymore, buddy,” Dean tells the mirror and rubs his eyes before groaning and heading back out.

Dean looks around, trying to place the table he left before realizing it’s filled with strangers now. He does a customary glance around, but it’s pretty clear that Benny left with the angels. Instead of getting angry (which would mean being a hypocrite, he’s abandoned Benny in multiple locations because he just wanted to go home and the guy never held it against him), he feels defeated. 

Instead of immediately leaving or even checking his phone for the apology text that’s undoubtedly there, he shuffles towards the bar. Maybe one more angelic drink before leaving and he would at least finally feel that happy buzz. 

“Is that a Halo?”

Dean is pulled back from whatever personal hell he had sunken into. The man sitting next to him is referring to the drink Dean is nursing – beer seemed too dull so he’d taken a cocktail. It’s colored light yellow with golden glitter flecks swirling inside and even though he’s already forgotten how much it cost, it must have been more than he’d liked.

“Yes, rather obviously,” he mutters, honestly just wanting to be left alone. His social well is already running on fumes.

“There’s something peculiar about a human-made drink called Halo,” the man muses. “First of all, halos are not golden.”

Dean raises his gaze to see the faint flicker on top of his new companion’s head. That and seeming a little stiff aside, he’d never guess he’s talking to an angel. Tax accountant or an insurance salesman, maybe. Must be the trenchcoat he’s wearing.

“That’s interesting,” Dean manages a hint of sarcasm into his voice. “I was just leaving, so you don’t need to pretend you want to talk to me.”

Instead of laughing awkwardly or trying to convince Dean of the opposite despite not knowing him, the man tilts his head and asks, “Would you like to grab some burgers?”

He doesn’t realize until it’s said, but that’s exactly what Dean wants. 

*

There’s something cool about the angel. 

Dean sighs and stretches out his limbs before getting out of bed.

His name is Castiel, and in addition to looking like a dork, he very much is a dork on the inside. He’s completely oblivious to any Star Wars references, which strikes Dean as a bit odd – aren’t angels supposed to be all-knowing? He didn’t want to intrude by asking.

Over burgers, they talked about the city, mostly. Castiel has lived here for all his time on earth (and Dean can only guess how long that is) and he shared stories of some burger places he loved that no longer exist. Dean half-expected it to be boring, but instead, he was sucked into the stories. He’s only had the same reaction to his favorite books, so it was a lot to be that immersed in the way someone talked about old fast food joints.

A bit worrisome, actually.

There’s a lot Dean wanted to ask now that he actually got to spend some time with an angel, but asking about angel technicalities would’ve probably ruined the mood. Castiel seemed in need of distraction himself, although Dean never found out what he was running away from. If he had to guess, he’d say it’s that Castiel doesn’t want to spend his time getting hit on in a bar, or he doesn’t like one-night-stands. Probably not that, though. He could’ve stayed home, if that was the case.

They exchanged numbers at the end of the night, and that was Castiel’s idea. He said he wanted to show Dean a library he likes – that he’s been looking for a human friend to take there. Instead of feeling used because of his humanity, Dean’s pleased to know nothing is expected of him – he’s way too rusty to get into the dating scene, and even if he wasn’t… He’s not entirely sure that’s what he needs or wants right now.

So being used as a template human it is.

“Oh, this is nice,” Castiel says, his hands around a steaming mug of coffee. “And you get to take this wherever you go?”

“Yeah, with the lid on. If you spill your coffee on the books, you’ll pay. They have cameras _everywhere_ ,” Dean explains, whispering the last word. Cas looks around, but he’s not nervous – no, he looks like he wants to fucking finger gun a camera if he comes across one.

“This is nice. Books and coffee. My angel friends usually only go out at night, so it’s nice to have someone to visit these places with.”

“And I have to be human, because…?”

“Oh, because,” Castiel says, clicking his tongue before pointing up. “Is the portal visible?”

“The –“ Dean looks up with his mouth open. “The portal?”

“Yes, there’s a highly active portal between heaven and earth in here. Angels are coming and going faster than you can imagine. I was asked to find out whether this is something that needs to be solved, but if humans can’t see the portal, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

Completely neglecting to tell Castiel what he needs to know, Dean frowns. “Who exactly asks you to find out this stuff? Capital G?”

Castiel huffs. “If you’re referring to God, he’s forsaken us ages ago. As much as I’d like to have a conversation with him, he’s nowhere to be found. No, I work for an angel in a higher position than I. We just want to keep the portals hidden.”

“And they work both ways?” Dean asks, still looking around the ceiling in hopes of catching a glimpse of something otherworldly.

“Yes, like I said, coming and going. Therein lies the problem, too – if humans were to see these portals, they too could use them. We already have unauthorized traffic, we don’t need more.”

“Well, rest assured. All I see is dusty windows, although I gotta admit I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“You’d know it if you saw it,” Castiel says, relieved. He sits down on one of the rocking chairs placed in a cozy row next to the windows. Dean looks at the windows, the lights, the concrete for a while longer before sitting down opposite him.

“So, apart from checking portals, can I ask what else you do?”

“Nothing else. Every now and then, I hear of a new portal in the bar you found me in. It’s a nightclub angels who just fell usually go to for that first taste of humanity. I do have a couple of other locations too, but –”

Castiel gives Dean a sideways glance, as if measuring him up. Dean frowns.

“Anyway,” Castiel pushes on then, deciding against whatever he was going to say. “It’s a nice library.”

Dean’s frown deepens and he sighs. “So, you’re an angel.”

“Yes, I am. Anything you want to ask?”

“Obviously. More than anything, I’d like to know about the ability you have. Can you read thoughts?”

Castiel hums, and for a while, Dean fears that he’s been reading his all this time. He’s not even sure what he’s been thinking about – but the thought of someone invading his privacy in such a profound manner doesn’t strike as nice to him.

“No, I can’t read thoughts. I mean I could – but I do need the human’s consent for that and I need to be touching them physically,” he pauses for a beat and lifts his fingertips on his own temple, “right here.”

“Okay. So,” Dean coughs, “if you don’t mind me asking, how do you exactly know what humans want, then? It doesn’t seem practical to be holding their temples while you, well, bonk.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been told, but you should never refer to sex as bonking again,” Castiel chuckles. “No, angels don’t hold temples while fucking. And it’s hard to explain. When we came in through that door, I heard the portal. It’s a divine source of energy, and angels can hear divine sources of energy. Everything divine has a beat, or a melody, some even a full song. Human souls are divine, so they have a sound too.”

“Mine, too, then?”

Castiel considers this… No, he _listens_ to it. Dean tries to read his expression to figure out whether it’s a pleasant sound his soul is making.

“Yours too. And since we can hear human souls, we can hear when they’re craving – and what they’re craving. We can sense someone in need, regardless of what they’re needing.”

“Did you fucking _sense_ I needed a burger last night?”

He laughs. Dean notices it’s hard for him to not smile when Castiel is laughing.

“I mean, yes and no. I sensed you need something solid in your system, but that could also be less of an angel thing and more of a thing of me just seeing you wobbling around.”

“Right. Well, ain’t that a little embarrassing.”

“And I can’t say we’re completely impartial to this, either. Some songs are really beautiful and there’s certain life energy that can be attained by fulfilling the need.”

“Life energy,” Dean echoes. “Isn’t that taking something away from humans?”

“No, it’s doubling it.” Castiel sighs, and Dean fills the silence – he’s remembering some particularly _energetic_ experience from his past. “Still, we’re angels of the Lord. We’re here for the humans.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Castiel looks at him, suddenly stern. “Do you still have many questions up your sleeve? I’m hoping to borrow you for one more location.”

Dean blinks. “I didn’t mean to –”

“It’s okay,” Castiel waves his hand gently. “It’s just a question I need to answer a lot, mostly to my commander.”

“There’s a lot about you guys I don’t get, gotta admit. You don’t owe me answers, though. What’s this secondary location you’re trying to lure me into?”

It’s a beach. There’s apparently a portal over the sea, and for some reason it makes Dean laugh – the image of serious, holy angels tumbling ass-first in the ocean as their first deed on earth is hilarious. Castiel rolls his eyes, but it’s fond – and for some reason, it warms Dean’s heart more than he cares to admit. There’s something supernatural about most angels, but in all of his awkwardness and snarkiness, Castiel is so _human_. It’s easy to be around him, and even though Dean realizes he probably should have his guard up with a stranger, it’s been so long since he last had interesting company that he just keeps on talking. It takes all he has to not venture into deeper topics, but he manages even though they end up eating together again.

Dean’s days are pretty much filled with portalwatch after that. Castiel is sometimes as surprised as him at the places they end up, but mostly they have a good time despite the fact that the angel is obviously stressed out. He gives Dean snippets about how his world works; how his commander, Naomi, keeps tabs on him and other angels she’s recruited. Mostly, their mission is to make sure that fallen angels at least somewhat keep in line, don’t leak celestial secrets, or “do anything that brings harm to Heaven”. Murder, for example, Castiel explains. Sometimes, apparently, recruited angels need to take measures to make sure everything stays calm. Castiel has sent some angels back to Heaven for “trust breaches,” which mostly means violence, and he doesn’t have to say anything for Dean to hear how much he hates those situations. Dean gets it – having to betray your fallen siblings is hard, even if it’s the right thing to do. 

It makes sense that Castiel isn’t a fallen angel. He’s not looking to get human experiences out of his days – instead, he seems to be equal parts confused and impressed about everything that comes his way. 

What doesn’t make sense, though, is what happens in Dean’s head whenever they’re not on a portal mission.

He realizes it first when he lies awake in bed. It’s three in the morning, he’s slept for four hours, and when Castiel sends him a message at that hour… His heart starts pounding.

First, he thinks it’s because he’s surprised, but when Castiel’s message is about an urgent meeting on the rooftop of a bank, he actually feels faint.

Oh, shit.

He could blame it on being sick or sleep-deprived. He could tell Castiel that he’s sick or sleep-deprived so he wouldn’t have to deal with this right now, but instead, he lazily gets up and starts getting dressed. This is not the first crush he’s had as an adult, and he’s learned to deal with it his way; ignore, ignore, ignore. Telling Castiel about it would be unfair, because if for whatever reason Castiel said he likes Dean, too… Well, that’s cause for obvious concerns. Despite Dean focusing on other stuff than the Main Problem in his life, he’s well aware that it still exists. The thought of ever getting physical with Castiel makes the warmth in his chest turn into a block of ice, and he brushes all of his thoughts aside and picks up a shirt. 

For a while, it’s alright. They meet in front of the bank and Dean barely even swoons over the fact that Castiel doesn’t care about breaking the law. He touches a padlock gently and it just fucking melts under his fingers -- Dean is about to ask or maybe make a witty remark but Castiel just ushers him along to the spiral staircase leading to the roof. The stairs clank under their feet, but Castiel doesn’t seem bothered by sounds; instead, he laughs when Dean mentions they probably should be looking out for cops. 

“I’ve been arrested many times,” Castiel says. “Nothing that holds, though. I’m not a criminal, I just trespass from time to time.”

“I wouldn’t judge. I’ve been in juvie.”

“Oh, aren’t you the outlaw,” Castiel hums and even though Dean can’t see him right now, he knows he’s smirking. “Anyway, there’s a portal here that resonates differently. I think it’s poorly constructed and a health hazard… Not to mention other hazards.”

Dean can’t lie. He’s already given up on the possibility of ever seeing a portal. He’s thought that either Castiel severely overestimates humans or just drags Dean along because he feels sorry for him – after all, Dean must have looked a number when they first met. All of that slips from his mind the instant they’re up on the roof. 

It’s like the stars distort a little against the backdrop of a black sky. Walking forward, Dean can make out colors spinning around a black hole – it’s like what he imagines a vortex looks like, beautiful and deadly. There’s no doubt these things are dangerous; he’s pretty sure his arm would dissolve if he put it in. 

Clearly braver, Castiel walks up to the portal until he’s barely a few feet away. “So, you see it too?”

“Yes,” Dean sighs, “it’s cool, not gonna lie.”

“Oh, yes,” Castiel agrees. “Come closer.”

“You’re not gonna push me in, right? Or was that your plan all along?”

Castiel frowns. “Yes. My plan was to find a human foolish enough to follow me to a portal and then just push them in.”

Dean’s closer now, and he can hear the portal – it’s high-pitch, nothing pleasant, a sound that he’s heard many times after a rock concert. He takes a step back and looks at Castiel.

“So, now what?”

“I’ll file a report about this one. I think we need to keep watch here until they close it down from the other side.”

“What is ‘the other side’?” 

Castiel looks at Dean, blinking. “Heaven, obviously.”

“No, I know that,” Dean gestures with his hand, “what is Heaven? Is it a hole in the sky, a cloud, a different dimension –”

“Yes,” Castiel says. “Yes to all of those. Heaven is whatever you want it to be. For some people, it’s people sitting on a cloud behind pearly gates. For some, it’s a never-ending party or a giant city where you and all your friends live. Depends on your belief, really.”

“That’s… a relief, actually.”

“Are you afraid of dying, Dean?”

“That’s sort of a personal question, isn’t it?”

Castiel shrugs. “I’ll withdraw it, then.”

He walks up to the edge of the building and sits down on the concrete. Dean follows.

It’s not a tall building, so the view isn’t anything spectacular. Cars pass by under them and while Castiel stays eerily quiet and still, Dean wonders how he’s going to contact Heaven. Do they have phones?

Now that it’s silent, he can’t keep his mind from the things he doesn’t want to think about. He thinks back to the night he met Castiel – how Benny effortlessly took home two angels at the same time and how that should make Dean feel jealous, but it just makes him sick to think about himself in the same situation. Not that there’s anything wrong with love; no matter how many people share it, Dean’s all for it… But since sex has a long time ago become impossibly hard for him, it’s obvious thinking about more one-night-stands isn’t doesn’t make him happy jump.

Castiel frowns. “Alright, I’m done with my conversation with Naomi. They should be here in an hour or two. I do have another personal question, though, to replace the first one.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

“Did you really?”

Dean smirks. It feels forced. “Just get on with it.”

“I’ve noticed a change in your soul,” Castiel squints, he’s trying to pick the right words, “you’re going towards something dark, but I do see lighter notes too – I’m sorry, I’m not assuming anything, but it sounds like you’re going through something.”

Dean turns his head down and tries to keep his voice level. “What the hell?”

“I don’t mean to pry. It’s just, we’ve spent a while together and I’m used to how you sound by now. This is different.”

“I don’t like it,” Dean swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, “personal space, Cas.”

“Of course. I’d just like to help.”

“You can’t, so shut up.”

Castiel does. For a while, Dean concentrates on his breathing and lowering his blood pressure. He counts cars that pass by, refuses to think about anything, and when he next opens his mouth, words come out on their own.

“I’m broken. I’ve been broken for as long as I can remember. There’s… Things I can’t do that I’d like to be able to do, and sometimes it gets worse; sometimes it’s thrown at my face and sometimes I think I want to pursue something, and this thing I can’t do instantly gets in the way, and…”

He trails off. Castiel looks into the distance. 

“You can use the right words, Dean, if you’re comfortable. Whatever it is, I won’t be shocked. I’ve seen plenty during the years I’ve lived on Earth.”

“I’ve only ever told my best friend about this in texts, and even then, I only needed to use vague expressions and she immediately caught on. Saying the words out loud is fucking scary, man.”

“I get it,” Castiel says. His voice is warm, soothing.

“The night we met, I was at the bar to hook up with an angel. You know, for the reputation y’all have about being good in bed, whatever. I thought that was what I needed because I haven’t been able to enjoy sex since I was a teen. I get crushes, sure, but,” Dean rubs his face with his palms to hide the blush of embarrassment, “the second I think about acting on it, I get freaked out because there’s just sweat, and there’s other fluids, and there’s me wishing it was over already. I’m a guy a bit over my thirties and I can’t fucking… Well, fuck. So yeah, like I said, I’m broken.”

“Sex is something important for you, then? That you can’t just push the whole issue aside and consider focusing on things that bring you joy without the whole,” Castiel gestures vaguely towards Dean, “thinking about what you should be.”

“I don’t know,” Dean admits. Within a couple of minutes, Castiel already has him doubting the seriousness of his problem. “I mean, maybe I would have moved on already if it was that simple. I know what sex is supposed to be, and how it has felt for me when I was younger, and because there shouldn’t be anything wrong with me medically, I’m just stuck in a loop of how inadequate I am.”

“You’re stuck, that’s for sure,” Castiel says, rubbing his jawline with his palm. Dean tries not to follow the movement; honestly, it’s fucked up to have a crush on someone and not _want_ them physically. “If you want to, I can never talk about this again. Or I can try to help, or – anything you feel you need right now.”

“I just feel so fucked up. Talking about it makes me more fucked up. Maybe it’s best we don’t talk about it anymore.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, looking down at the cars. “Have you ever wondered why I’m not down there with the rest of the angels? Hooking up, having the time of my life?”

“Because you’re always working. Always looking for portals.”

“No, that’s not it,” he turns his face up towards the sky, catching the few first drops of rain on his cheeks. “I have a reason, but I think it’s very important that you find your own way, your own words, first. I don’t want to affect your thinking, because we all, angels and humans, are individuals.”

Dean nods. He looks at Castiel’s profile and wonders what kind of secrets he has. His thought is interrupted by intimidating-looking angels that arrive through the portal, and the rest of the night is spent answering questions and closing a portal.

*

During the next couple of weeks, Dean talks to Charlie multiple times between hanging out with Castiel. It feels good to hear someone tell him there’s nothing wrong with having a crush or romantic feelings towards someone without wanting it to lead to sex. It’s hard to think about what Dean wants out of a relationship without feeling self-hate, and he’d much rather concentrate on other stuff altogether, but… The more time he spends with Castiel, the more he feels himself falling, and this can’t go on forever.

Then, a shift happens.

It’s slight – Dean first notices it when they’re climbing a hill towards a portal. Castiel says this resonates differently, too, and that it’s a big one that requires a lot more work to close. As they’re ascending the stairs carved in stone, Dean feels content. His heart fills with warmth just being here, with Castiel by his side on a somewhat non-threatening heavenly mission. He’s happy that Castiel chose him from the crowd in the bar that night, and he’s overwhelmed about how easy everything has been with him; even after the awkward confession at the rooftop, Castiel hasn’t changed the way he talks to him. 

What’s even scarier than feeling warm and happy is what Dean would love to do about it. He would love to hug Castiel right now, to curl up next to him, to exchange slow kisses and – 

And just stay there. 

It’s a desire more physical than he’s had in a long time and it scares him – but he’s even more scared of the possibility that Castiel wouldn’t want that. It’s probably rude to assume it of him, though; another thing Charlie has taught him during the past weeks. Dean can’t assume nobody understands him without even giving them a chance to.

“You’re preoccupied,” Castiel says quietly as they near the top. “This is a huge portal. I think you’d best be prepared.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What, does my soul sound weird again?”

“It sounds clearer than I’ve heard so far. I’m drawn to it.”

He says it so bluntly that Dean needs to rewind in his mind to catch up. Blinking away his confusion, he sighs.

“Okay, then.”

“Look, we’re here,” Castiel changes the subject and steps the last stairs up with purpose. 

Like last time, Castiel is right in the portal resonating differently – Dean sees it. This time, it’s indeed huge; probably a 30-foot diameter vortex expands in front of them. It’s hard to see where it begins or ends against a backdrop of starry black sky, but the spirals emanating a northern light-like glow keep the cliff they arrived at somewhat lit. 

It’s like the whole universe is concentrated on the portal; beside its low hum, everything is still and silent. Dean’s not sure if it’s a magical quality common to everything heavenly, but his foolish mind instantly thinks of Castiel – how being around him makes everything else sort of distant. He can’t even begin to thank the angel for distracting him from his ongoing crisis, even if it was by accident.

“This is probably a portal with links,” Castiel says, still completely focused on the portal. “Some portals have multiple correspondents in Heaven. It’s handy, because there’s less portals on Earth… But also inconvenient since you never know which portal you end up in up there.”

“Right,” Dean says. “Is it harder to close?”

“Hmm? Yeah, it’s more work.”

Dean frowns, looking at Castiel. He’s currently hunched down, tracing over the lower edges of the portal with his fingertips. Working portals requires attention to detail, but because it’s routine by now, Castiel usually is talkative during these moments. Now, he’s shut off. This must either be an important portal – or there’s something else in his mind.

It takes about half an hour for Castiel to sigh and step back.

“They’ll be here soon. We need to talk first.”  
  


“Oh?” Dean gets back up from the ground that he’s wasted time sitting on.

“Is there something that’s changed? Of course, you don’t owe me an explanation,” Castiel says, running a hand through his messy hair, “but your soul is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, and I wonder why it’s getting harder for me to tune it out.”

“Uh. Harder?” is all that comes out of Dean’s head, even though that wasn’t the thing that caught his attention the most.

“I mean, I can do that,” Castiel says. “I’ve tuned it out since we first met, that’s not the problem. But either I’m tiring myself by constantly pretending, or your soul is louder than ever before.”

“That’s-“ Dean sighs heavily. His head is spinning with thoughts he barely recognizes as his own; he can’t remember when he last wanted to kiss someone this bad. He knows why his soul is singing – he _likes_ Castiel, and he has a craving for something more, and he can’t even name all of the things he’d like to do – and all of that is curling into a mess in his head and frankly, he wants to scream a little. 

And Castiel is saying he’s attracted, and his soul is the most beautiful thing ever, and all of it is too much.

He sighs again.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says eventually. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean bites his lip. The portal hums.

“No,” he manages. The words are stuck on the back of his throat, but if he doesn’t force them out now, they will never come. “I want to kiss you.”

Castiel tilts his head and squints. It’s adorable – and scary.

“I only now realized that’s something I want to do. I… kind of have a crush on you. So,” he’s losing his bravery fast – he looks down and kicks some pebbles off the cliff. “In case you’re wondering what makes my soul sound like whatever it sounds like, that’s probably it.”

He pushes his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugs as if to push all of this aside. 

“Dean…” Cas’ voice is strained.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s a lot to dump on anyone, especially when you know I don’t… the whole sex thing…”

“Dean, stop.”

Dean snaps his mouth shut. Castiel takes a step forward. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s hard to understand, but I know that somehow, you’re already aware of that.”

“I wish I was.”

“No, you are. Of course, there’s a long way to go but being able to talk about your situation so openly… I wish I had your bravery way back when I first started to question my sexuality.”

“This is a little too deep, man,” Dean says, clearing his throat. “What I meant was just that you don’t need to take me seriously, because as you know, I quite possibly can’t deliver sex. And that’s kind of an important thing that people usually expect after kisses.”

“That’s an unfortunate generalization. Don’t assume that all people are the same.” Castiel chuckles. “Besides, I’m an angel.”

Dean feels slightly breathless as Castiel takes another step forward. He feels his body move on its own; he’s slightly leaning towards the angel, even though he’s still a few feet away. 

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asks. 

“Scared, but still wanna kiss you. What about you?”

“Intoxicated by your soul.”

“Am I a siren?”

Castiel laughs and looks away, blushing. It’s obvious his statement came out completely unfiltered. It’s awesome. 

“No. Do you want to hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“Your soul. I can, uh, touch your temples and show you.”

Dean nods – mostly because he wants Castiel to touch him, but also… How many people get to hear their souls?

“Okay,” Castiel says and steps forward, reaching out, “I’m sorry, my fingers run cold when I’m nervous. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Castiel’s fingers feel extra cold because Dean’s nervousness makes him overheat, but the instant they touch, Dean hears it. He doesn’t know what he was waiting for – probably classic rock or even a neat Mozart tune – but the instant he hears the gentle ambient melody, he wants to cry. It’s calm and strong at the same time, ambitious and simple, and it makes Dean feel, of all things, _proud_. During that moment, he knows he’s radiant, beautiful, and lovable, and there indeed is nothing wrong with him. 

Their eyes meet each other and Castiel smiles fondly before tilting his head in a silent question. Dean returns the smile and, after taking a deep breath, nods. 

Their lips meet.

It’s probably supposed to be a short kiss, but the instant Dean feels Castiel’s warmth, he’s unable to let go. Castiel drops his fingers, and all sound from the universe disappears – they’re standing in a void, a vacuum, a complete pitch-black emptiness where the only sense is touch, Dean touching Castiel, holding the kiss for an eternity before parting his lips slightly, and sound comes rushing back. His ears are ringing, Castiel’s _right here_ , and they’re kissing, kissing deeper and deeper, falling into it together. Castiel shivers against him, and Dean pulls him closer; a gesture of _I’m here and as freaked out as you are by the depth of this_. 

When they part, they’re in each other’s arms, leaning their foreheads together, breathing the same air. Dean tries his hardest to keep his knees from buckling, but fails eventually and that breaks the little bubble of seriousness – Castiel all but laughs and steps backwards.

“I feel good,” Dean says, running a hand down his face to regain a sense of reality. “I feel so good.”

“Me too,” Castiel hums. 

“Wanna come over to my place?”

“I’d love that.”

“I mean – I still can’t promise –”

“I know. I want to be in your company, whatever that includes. But right now,” Castiel gestures towards the portal still open next to them, “we’re still on the clock.”

*

The apartment is dark apart from a lamp on Dean’s desk, and instead of turning the lights on, Dean takes Castiel’s hand and leads him to the couch. After four hours of waiting for someone to close the portal and traveling back here, his head is still spinning from the kiss – and nerves.

Castiel leans his elbow against the back of the couch. It looks both cozy and awkward.

“Can I tell you about my sexuality?”

Dean nods. He’s learned by now that Castiel’s not one to beat around the bush.

“When I was a young adult, I fell in love. Everything was good, but then we tried to have sex – and it was a disaster. We tried to blame it on nerves, but it happened time and time again – all I felt was uncomfortable and bored. I won’t bore you with my whole coming-of-age story, but that’s when I realized I’m gay; it was in no way my girlfriend’s fault, and I could’ve handled the whole thing better.”

“We’ve all been there,” Dean says slowly. “Although, I just needed to have sex with guys before I realized I still like girls, too.”

“There’s no bad blood between us now, for which I’m grateful, but it was awkward for a while. Anyway, I did what most young men did when they realized they’re gay – I went to a gay bar.”

“Human or angel?”

“Both. And it was just as horrible.”

Dean leans against the couch and gives Castiel a small smile. “Did you feel there’s something wrong with you?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely. Eventually I found out it’s possible to be repulsed by sex with strangers and still enjoy it with someone you’re in love with.”

“Demisexuality.”

Castiel nods. “Yes. I’m glad I know myself now, and I know that I only ever want to have sex with someone I romantically love. I just wish I wouldn’t have hurt others, or myself, while trying to figure that out.”

Dean places a gentle hand on Castiel’s arm. He doesn’t need to be an angel to sense how much Castiel appreciates the gesture.

“Anyway, that’s my story. I thought about the possibility of you being similar, but I didn’t want to make assumptions or label you, even unintentionally.”

“Thank you for that. Still,” Dean scoffs, “it’s pointless. I still don’t know who the hell I am.”

“You’re a good person, a giving, kind, and patient person. You’re brave – you wanted to kiss me and you did, choosing your desire over your fear. I think these kinds of things are all you need to know about yourself. So what if you can’t find a label that suits you? You’re good either way.”

“Yeah, I agree. I think it’s safe to say I fall somewhere in the asexual scale, but I don’t think I have a hurry to figure out where. Okay,” Dean huffs, “enough serious talk. Can we make out now?”

Castiel bursts out laughing. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I want you flat on my couch, I want to lie on top of you and I want to kiss the living hell out of you. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Dean is surprised by his sudden boldness, but it’s like a dam has broken inside of him – right now, on this couch with Castiel, he realizes he doesn’t have to know anything. He has made no promises to Castiel, and Castiel still wants to be here, and that in itself makes him feel a strange sense of freedom.

Like anything could happen.

He kisses Castiel gently; brushes his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before dipping it in his mouth for the briefest of moments. Castiel sighs happily against his lips and chases Dean’s tongue with his own, letting them fall into a deeper kiss that shakes Dean to his very core. He runs his fingertips on Castiel’s neck and the back of his head until Castiel pulls him closer and he’s completely in his arms. All of his brave plans about being initiative and in control evaporate into nothing as he melts against Castiel’s body, against his touch, against his lips and tongue. It’s warm and safe here, and the thought makes Dean shiver and sigh.

Castiel places a couple of small kisses against Dean’s jaw before leaning backwards a little.

“How’s it going?”

Dean hums. “Good.”

“Great,” Castiel says and intertwines their fingers, it feels nice, kind of like being home.

“This is good,” Dean replies. “Is this good?”

Castiel nods and leans his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. “I’d all but forgotten how good proximity can be.”

“Come here, I need more,” Dean says and when Castiel raises his head, he pushes him gently against the couch. When Dean follows, Castiel’s arms instantly find their way around his waist. Dean kisses Castiel again, this time more insistent and heavy, and as his fingertips dig into Castiel’s chest, he notices how out of breath they already are. A tiny sparkle of fear passes Dean, but he pushes the thought aside – he can stop whenever he wants to, and Castiel will completely understand.

It’s a strange, beautiful feeling.

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, “you’re—”

“Yeah,” Dean says, kissing Castiel’s throat now; his lips are moving on their own accord, they’re greedy and just tasting their way wherever they feel like. “I—”

At the first grind of his hips against Castiel’s, his head starts spinning. He places his forehead on Castiel’s chest for a while, breathing in, breathing out. Castiel’s fingers run up and down his spine, grounding him.

“Okay,” Dean says, “check-in. That felt weird and amazing. Kind of want to do it again. Where are you at?”

“I want you this close,” Castiel says, squeezing Dean against himself, “if I get to make you come while doing that, even better.”

Dean snorts. “Likewise, sir.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow before capturing Dean’s lips in a new kiss. Dean melts into it with a happy sigh, and intertwines their fingers again while grinding his hips down with more intent. It’s still safe like this, somewhat indirect but no less intense – they move together like tides and breathe each other in and out, their kisses are deep and slow, light and hard. Dean’s full of pleasure and joy, and when he feels Castiel’s hips stutter under him and comes with gasps moments later, all he feels is bliss.

He drops his head on Castiel’s chest and already feels himself dozing off. Castiel makes sure he’s doing alright, but lets him fall asleep after.

The last thought Dean’s mind that night is that Castiel only does this with people he loves.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, twitter, instagram, or discord! 
> 
> Let's go play Among Us together!


End file.
